Having Everything
by EikoWest
Summary: When a young man who has everything but wants the one thing he shouldn't be wanting decides to act upon a lifetime of pent-up desires, lines start to blur. A beloved butler will be seduced, a respectable master will delve into his most undisclosed depravity… But who's really the one unravelling who? HanP (Gohan x Piccolo)(Warning: Master & Butler PWP. NSFW! Full Warnings Inside.)


**Note:** This is a MA/R-18 story. _Only the first NON-MA/R-18 RATED PART IS POSTED HERE, since FFnet doesn't allow MA-Rated works!_ You may find the complete work on AO3 (Archive Of Our Own) under the same username/pseudonym. Cheers, lovelies!

**Warnings/Tags: **R*pe/Non-Con Elements, Alternate Reality - Master & Servant, Nonsensical World, Ideologically Sensitive, Power Play, Lemon, Smut, Porn Without Plot, Mild Angst(?), Modern Gothic Erotic, Strangely Fluffly(?), Cross-Dressing Kink, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Interspecies Sex, Dubious Consent, Power Play, Fingering, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Butler Piccolo, Master Gohan, Implied Promiscuous Gohan, Subservient Piccolo, Canon Male-Hermaphroditic Piccolo, Uke Piccolo, NSFW, Don't Expect Things To Make Sense, Unbeta'd, 飯Ｐ, Ｐ飯, 腐向

**Disclaimer:** **Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super**/etc. belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.

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Story #211:

**"Having Everything"**

_Sometimes having everything and getting what you want isn't the same thing…_

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"If it's in focus, it's pornography, if it's out of focus, it's art."_  
_— **Billy Kwan**

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_The object lying atop the unmade bed was a coquettish deep purple colour. A two-piece set, skimpy and see-through. It appeared to be held together by only the flimsiest threads, the most intricate appliqués, and the laciest ribbons he's ever seen…_

He stood perfectly still by the foot of his master's bed awaiting instructions as per his end-of-the-day routine. It was part of his job to know what or why anything was inside his master's room; he knew nothing of the curiosity on the bed or the reason behind it. It wasn't his place to ask trivial questions. If he wasn't spoken to or permitted to speak, he kept his mouth shut. He functioned strictly by orders; his primary job was to be available for the master at all times for whatever purpose – usually the tasks that his personal secretary or other assistants didn't cover.

The sound of the shower valve being turned off and the water spray ceasing to a drip pricked his ears. Shortly after, his master's stately form alighted from the shower room with nothing but a towel hanging low around his trim waist, resting at the very precipice of his hips. Fine golden chestnut brown hairs at the base of his navel rising from his pubic area peeked through and the entirety of his chiseled body glistened with moisture. Toned muscles rippled like waves as brawny arms reached up to lazily towel off excess moisture from his thick mane.

As his master walked passed it, his gaze inevitably fell upon the item on the bed once again.

His master didn't even bat an eyelash at it—didn't seem to be perturbed the slightest. Most likely because it was he himself who had put it there in the first place.

Though he has never come into direct contact with the likes of it before, he has seen enough to know: it was an accoutrement meant for the female species – _a woman's undergarment or lingerie._

He had known his master since childhood; his predilections, pet peeves, all his little and not-so-little idiosyncrasies. But growing up has changed his master a lot, sometimes into an entirely different person, it seemed. The item on the bed was but a representation of such changes; one of the many mysteries of Earthling adulthood that he was itching solve.

_…Perhaps his master was expecting a lady guest to "preoccupy" him this evening to cap off his special day?_

His master was not in any serious relationship at present, nor was he in the habit of fooling around with women—or men. But even those parts of his mould were broken out of every now and then, particularly when his charge was intoxicated or high out of his mind – as seldom as those instances may be… Today had been a long string of activities, mostly of the business kind more than pleasure as per usual. He was positive that his master wasn't drunk or under the influence of anything; although, peculiarly enough, his master's aura tonight did give off vibes to the contrary…

He knew only too well that his master had more than his fair share of sudden spontaneous caprices out of nowhere (like that time three years ago when he decided—on a whim and for purely rebellious reasons—to join a private orgy; which he was, the very next morning, stringently enjoined to never bring up again), but he was fairly certain that _crossdressing in female apparel_ was _not_ one of his master's secret or surprise hobbies– then, now, or in the foreseeable future.

"Piccolo-san," came the master's staid yet perpetually youthful voice.

Piccolo surreptitiously averted his gaze back to his charge, suddenly self-conscious as he realized that he was being watched closely by those discerning coffee-coloured eyes from the full-length mirror.

"Yes, Master."

"I see you've already found my present for you today."

Piccolo's eyes casually darted around the room trying to find anything else that wasn't there before apart from the purple lingerie. Or at the very least, something that looked more like a present meant for him _and exclusively him_… But to his disconcertion, he found none.

His eyes returned to the item atop the bed. He tried to size it up again until his brows knotted together in confusion. It's true, he had hermaphroditic qualities – something that his master was not in the dark about; but all Nameks are dominantly male, regardless… And he was sure that his master knew of that critical fact as well.

_Was this his_ _master's way of telling him to get a girlfriend…?_

By the time he sought out his master again, his heart nearly lurched out of his ribcage… So absorbed in scrutinizing his "gift" that he hadn't noticed that his master was now standing in front of him, studying his reactions… _studying him_.

Droplets of water streaked down his master's bare shoulders and chest from coal brown hair that still dripped wetness. Usually combed back fringe hung long and low down his forehead, framing intense eyes that continued to arrest him unflinchingly…

Piccolo found himself fighting the urge to take the towel off his master's hands and use it to dry off the lush head of hair himself, just as he always did as part of his duties when the man before him was but a little child and needed assistance with almost everything. His master was so grown up and a great deal independent now. Sometimes, when stuck in a morbidly sentimental mood, he would wonder why his master still kept him around…

"Well…?" The master carelessly raked back renegade wet strands with his fingers. "Do you like it?"

Taking one last look at the purple lingerie on the bed, Piccolo returned his master's gaze with an expertly default neutral expression, perfectly masking his perplexion.

"Yes, Master. I like it… Thank you very much."

The master stared at him wordlessly. Rivulets of moisture from his hair continued to trace the contours of his impeccably sculpted body all the way down to the towel covering his nether regions.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for his master to give him pointless gifts just for the heck of it. But it was, without a doubt, the first time he has received something as scandalously kinky and unapologetically effeminate. Piccolo assumed that it was simply one of his master's phases. Whatever reasons or lack thereof behind his master's actions were irrelevant anyway. It wasn't part of his job to get involved; he was but there to serve. Theirs was a professional relationship, nothing more-nothing less. Where he had to keep his inhibitions in place, his master was free do whatever he pleased—to indulge in whatever he felt, regardless if it were taboo.

The rules that bound him didn't apply to his master. Piccolo's freedom only went as far as his master allowed…

"Well, that's not my actual gift to you…" A pause. "Before I can give you your actual gift, I need you to put that on first."

Piccolo's brain seemed to lag for a moment. He struggled to process what his ears wasn't so sure it had just heard.

"I beg your pardon, Master… You… wish for me to wear it?"

"Yes."

"Uhm… R-right now, Master?"

The master didn't answer at once. He languidly sauntered to his luxurious midnight-blue reading chair and settled into it with his chin upon his thumb and middle finger, index finger pointed upward against his cheek.

"Yes," he said simply. "Right here. Right now… Do it without taking your eyes off me, as much as possible."

Piccolo swooned, feeling rubbery around the knees as the full implication of his master's command started to sink in.

"A-as you wish, Master."

"Take everything off. I want you only in my gift and nothing else."

Piccolo was somewhat grateful that his master dimmed the room's lights to a nice warm lamplight, but… Understandably, it was difficult to feel any measure of comfort in such an awkward situation—if anything, the subtle lighting only seemed to heighten the already palpable tension in the room.

Nevertheless…

The Namek greatly prided himself for his professionalism, and so, with one deep, steadying breath, he expertly tucked away any confusion and discomfort he felt—

And obeyed.

His personalized *Hanley Graves Jr golden pocket watch came off first…

With a crisp click, the chain is unlatched from his belt loop before the timepiece is scooped out of his pocket and set aside.

The pristine white gloves followed next…

Each fingertip is plucked loose from its snug casing with scrupulous deliberation before his entire hand is freed of the covering entirely. The pair is bundled together with the pocket watch on top, and placed on the bed.

He then proceeded to undo the gilded buttons of his perfectly pressed coat in descending order, one painstaking buttonhole at a time. His composed and careful attention to performing the mundane task bellied the nervous anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach; his concentration, indomitable.

The vest, tie, and dress shirt all followed suit, and were soon folded neatly in one pile next to his gloves and pocket watch in one corner of the bed… He was soon down to his trousers and Bolvaint loafers… Both of which were promptly stripped off as well, and set aside with the rest of his belongings.

Piccolo got the job done on auto-pilot, subconsciously having prolonged the ritual of undressing; not wanting to rush into his impending state of déshabillé, even if he knew that nothing he did could forestall the inevitable. But as he stood his full towering height, spectacularly exposed in his glorious nudity… The tightness in his chest, the jitters crawling up and down his loins, and the general inundating nervousness hit him full-force all the same, swallowing him whole like a tidal wave.

The master's eyes had an edgy predatory gleam to it, unabashedly fastened to his butler's form for some heart-stoppingly long seconds, hungrily taking in every detail of the Namek's bare body.

The sight of his master's rigid posture and ragged breaths, and those light rosy cheeks now blazing crimson made heat pool in Piccolo's belly and a restless ache throb in his core. But he steeled his nerves and forced himself carry on. He was still only halfway done in fulfilling his master's instructions…

He still had to wear his "pre-gift".

Piccolo picked up the first of the flimsy lingerie with utmost care, as though it would actually fall apart from the slightest mishandling. He wasn't aware of how he managed it, whether it was due to some hidden talent he didn't know he had, years of unquestioningly faithful servitude, or simply being in some kind of deranged flow– but he was "clothed" in the tiny albeit surprisingly stretchy upper and lower undergarment in no time. The irony of it was how much effort it took to put on something that felt like nothing all…

The scanty fabric only seemed to highlight his chest and his lower private regions like the way neon lights lit up a shop sign at night. It was a ridiculously tight fit all around and he tried not to be conscious of how the part meant to cover his rear just missed the globes of his ass entirely; and instead had sandwiched itself snugly in his hind cleavage…

That same lacy narrow strip of cloth that went under his crotch, dug uncomfortably into the slit of his female sex and ran all the way up over the sensitive hooded nub, where an extra gaudy appliqué design formed an intricate mesh crown around it, as if shouting out to anyone who might have trouble locating his weakest, most vulnerable spot, that _it was_ _right there_, ready for the taking_._

A single drop of sweat rolled down Piccolo's temple as he strove to stay on his toes. Straightening up fully inadvertently caused the garment to be embedded further inside him, poking invasively into his delicate raw flesh, but he dared not falter. He stood tall and proud and ready, and despite his compromising plight– with as much dignity as he could muster. A feat no less than commendable. He knew that whatever was expected of him that night, his task was already half done. He mentally congratulated himself for getting past what had to be the most challenging thing ever asked of him to date, if only to ease the apprehension he felt. But he has yet to receive his master's actual gift. _Surely, it couldn't be anything harder than this, right?_

_Wrong,_ said his hammering heart.

Piccolo was ordered to turnaround. Then face in different directions at certain angles several times. All the while, those hawkish eyes remained riveted on him like a famished predator salivating before he devoured his prey. It felt like a lifetime had gone by before the master was satisfied. By the time he was made to return to his original position of standing still facing his master, his cheeks felt like they needed to be doused of flames. He attempted to regulate his breathing but the air expanded too quickly in his chest and rattled frantically up his throat, making raspy heaving sounds as they slid past his lips. The greater part of his mind had already gone considerably numb at that point; and maybe it was for the best.

_The master looked pleased. That was all that mattered._

Just as he was about to allow himself a smidgeon of relief, thinking that maybe this was all his master wanted: to see him in prurient feminine undergarments—perhaps take a few naughty pictures or videos and such, that was it– his master got to his feet, and somehow, he knew at once that he had celebrated too soon…

Tanned, lithe fingers slipped in-between the towel around those hips _and deftly pushed down._ The towel fell away and pooled at the master's feet.

Piccolo's breath caught in his throat.

His master was now completely naked before him…

And fully erect.

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THIS IS ONLY A TRUNCATED VERSION OF THE ACTUAL STORY!

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**THE COMPLETE STORY IS UP & POSTED ON MY AO3 ACCOUNT (USERNAME: MARIEKOWEST).**


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